


In The End

by Sira



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 15:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15951755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sira/pseuds/Sira
Summary: William Adama and Laura Roslin bump into each other while running from the rest of the world.Just another take on how these two could've met each other. AU





	In The End

**Author's Note:**

> It seems BSG and I have an on-again, off-relationship. Of all the fandoms I've been in, this seems to be the one that took root in my heart. Anyway, this little story might not be especially good or witty, but it felt great to write again after many months of writing nothing at all. This is unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

_I tried so hard and got so far_  
But in the end it doesn't even matter  
I had to fall to lose it all  
But in the end it doesn't even matter 

_In The End - Linkin Park_

With a groan, Bill Adama sat up in bed, switching on the lamp on his nightstand. Sleep was eluding him, and he knew from experience that lingering in bed wouldn‘t change a thing. Sighing quietly, he got up, walked into his living room, scanning his book shelf for something to read. Nothing appealed to him, so he got out the next best volume, a history book about the Cylon war. The first Cylon war if anybody asked him, not that there seemed to be a single soul that cared what he had to say. 

It was one of the reasons they had decided to move him back to the Galactica. He would be out of the admiralty‘s way then. He shook his head, annoyed with himelf, the fleet, those damned short-sighted politicians who were only interested in their next election and not the very threat that could destroy them all.

Still, frightening as it should be, it wasn‘t the reason that still had him awake. It was the dreadful ball he‘d been invited to, a masked ball nonetheless. A ball where Caprica‘s high society had come to mingle. The admiralty, high ranking politicians, the rich and the beautiful.

It had been less an invitation than an order, and a good soldier followed an order. 

Having entered the mansion that housed the party late, a nearly retired admiral had taken him to the side. He‘d been thanked for his service by the man his name he hadn’t bothered to commit to memory, had been told his stint with Galactica would begin in a week from now. 

All the time the man had spoken, Bill hadn't been able to really see the other man‘s face as it was obstructed by a hideous mask. At least his own mask had hid most of his own reactions.

Hardly listening to what the other man had to say, he'd been glad when was released. He‘d turned for the exit, intent to flee the party as quickly as possible. Even if it meant abandoning Saul who had been invited as well. Not paying any attention to his environment, he’d almost run into a stranger, nearly knocking him, no her, to the ground.

His hand had shot out on its own volition, and instead of tumbling to the ground, the woman had fallen into his arms, laughing out as she did so.

“I‘m sorry,“ they'd both said in unison, which had her eyes sparkle. Green eyes, conveying humour and intelligence. He'd instantly regretted that he wasn‘t able to see more of her face, that it was hidden by a simple white mask with a flowery pattern on both of its sides.

“It was my fault, really,“ he'd said again, realising he was still holding on to her, releasing her arm before taking a step back. 

“In that case, I accept your apology,“ she'd said, her voice wry, and he thought she was smiling. Though then she stiffened, looking at somebody behind him. Turning to follow her gaze, he saw that a slender man, followed by several people that had to be bodyguards was moving through the room, looking for somebody.

It had to be the president of the colonies, Richard Adar, and from the reaction of his companion, he might be very well looking for her. 

“I heard the gardens here are spectacular,“ he'd said before he had thought his words through. 

What the frak? He didn‘t want to be here, didn‘t want to talk to any strangers, even when they came in the form and shape of what he thought would most likely be a beautiful woman.

Her eyes had met his, and there was a flicker of uncertainty, followed by resolve.

“Let‘s go and have a look then.“

This time, she'd reached for his hand all but dragging him outside with her. It had taken them a couple of minutes to make their way through the crowds, and all the time he'd debated if he had lost his mind. 

Who did he think he was but an old and battle weary commander that had been cast aside? A man whose marriage had dissolved and whose relationship with his sons was cordial at best.

He'd stopped the destructive train of thoughts. It wasn‘t as if this woman was looking for somebody to spend the night with. All she had wanted was an out from an unwanted situation. What could the president possibly want from her?

He could ask, and yet, he didn‘t care for the answer, didn’t think he’d receive one, anyway. 

Outside it had been noticeably colder which was a nice change from the cloying atmosphere inside. They'd been the only ones outside at this moment, and the woman had released his hand, taking a deep breath before turning to him.

“Thank you.“

“I didn‘t do a thing.“

“Yes, you did. But let‘s not talk about it.“

She'd studied him for a minute, making him wonder what she was seeing, apart of the ridiculous blue mask, resembling a Caprican blue eagle.

"You wanted to flee the crowd, too, didn‘t you?“

There was absolute certainty in her voice, and he didn‘t feel like denying it anyway.

“Yeah.“

There'd been a bench nearby, looking out over an artificial lake surrounded by symmetrical arranged plants and bushes all around. It had looked fake, like everything else inside had. He’d always preferred the wilderness, the beauty that one only could find in nature untouched by men. 

She'd taken a few steps, sitting down, patting the space beside her. A second he'd debated to stand his ground. He wasn‘t her lapdog following her everywhere, but it had been an invitation not a command, and so he'd moved slowly, sitting down beside her, folding his hands in his lap.

“If you could flee, go anywhere in the colonies, where would you go?“ she'd asked a moment later.

He hadn‘t ever thought about it, although to leave it all behind… for a minute it had sounded like a good idea. 

„Don‘t know. Somewhere remote. Maybe go and visit the Golden Caves on Aquarius. You?“

“I‘d take the next space ship out and travel the galaxy,“ she'd said without hesitation.

“It‘s only the fleet going out that far and believe me, life on a military vessel isn‘t comfortable.“

She'd looked at him from the side, but he just bore her scrutiny, looked ahead. 

“You peg me as one needing the luxury then?“

He'd thought she was teasing him, but who knew, really?

“You‘re definitely not military and you‘re either a politician, a rich benefactor or a woman married to one. Otherwise you wouldn‘t be here.“

She'd chuckled and there'd been an edge under the merriment, making him wonder what made her so obviously bitter.

“So what do you think fits me best, politician, rich benefactor or one of the wives working through their husband’s money.”

She'd huffed out a laugh, held up a hand. “Wait, I think I don‘t want to know.”

“Why not?” he'd asked, even though he had no idea which of the three he’d have picked. She behaved too candid to be a politician, too down to earth for living a luxury life and too sarcastic to be what she basically called a ‘kept wife’.

“Because it doesn’t matter. Our ways collided for a moment in time but will part in a few more minutes.”

She'd spoken the truth, and yet, a contradictory part of himself wanted to tell her that instead of playing games, they could drop the masks and go for a drink.

Right. As if she’d go for this.

“So what would you like to talk about then instead?” he'd asked, although he would have been content with sitting here quietly, just let this evening be whatever it would be. It had been better than the party they’d abandoned, better than his empty apartment, better than hitting some bar, feeling alone in a mass of strangers.

“The stars.”

Her instant answer had surprised him, and when he'd looked at her, the wistfulness of her gaze touched him in a way he hadn’t expected. Before he could ask her to clarify she'd spoken again.

“No matter who you are, no matter what it is you really do, I know you’ve been out there. Tell me about it.”

He'd been about to tell her that he wasn’t a gifted conversationalist, but stopped himself in time. Maybe he didn’t have to be.

“It’s quieter,” he'd started. “And your surrounding never lets you forget that you’re an intruder. That you’ll die if you and your crew won’t work together perfectly. There’s no time for smooth talk, for any frills out there...”

He'd spoken, and while he did, her eyeshad rested on him. She hadn't interrupted him once.

****

She hadn’t made it to bed, even though sunrise was near. Gods, she was deadly tired and would have to face one appointment after the other the next day. Instead of trying to get at least a modicum of rest, though, she stared at the blinking light of her answering machine, knowing quite well who’d wanted to talk to her. 

Sleeping with Richard had been a mistake. If only she’d kept their relationship professional, if only she’d have let friendship be enough. The man was married, for gods’ sake. He didn’t love her, and if she was honest with herself, she didn’t love him either. 

So why on Caprica had she given in after years of resisting him rather easily? Stress? Loneliness? The sudden realization her life would never be what she’d dreamed of it being. There wouldn’t be a husband, two kids and a dog in her future. It would only be Laura and her career, with a man to warm her bed from time to time if she was lucky.

She’d been running from herself, and he’d been there. It didn’t do to lie to herself; she’d run into Richard’s arms freely, and now all she could do was to try and forget about it. It had been the reason why she’d been avoiding him all night during that hideous ball.

Putting the book she wasn’t reading to the side, she made her way into her kitchen, prepared herself a cup of coffee. While her eyes followed the steady drip of liquid provided by her old fashioned coffee maker, her thoughts drifted back to last evening, of running away from Richard only to end up with a rather unlikely companion. 

She smiled, wondered what he was doing right now. Even having talked to him, or having him talk to her for a couple of hours, she knew next to nothing about him. Not his name, not how he really looked apart of having startling blue eyes. She didn’t know what he did for a living apart of the fact he was clearly with the fleet. 

There was one thing she knew with clarity, though. This man had a voice that made her want to listen to him all day long. The deep rumble, the certainty he spoke with… he could have read her the phone book, and she’d have been content to just listen. 

Richard, he was a smooth talker, his voice silky. He was nothing more than a spider weaving its net with well chosen words. Only that his words meant nothing, were just means to an end. The voice of her stranger had been saturated with simple honesty. He’d said what he meant, meant what he said. It was as refreshing as a sip of cold water on a too hot day. 

He had told her about life with the fleet, about the beauty of space, at the end about his fear they could lose it all. The cylons. He hadn’t voiced it directly, but she’d understood. There were whispers about the Valkyrie, a ship that had been sent on a retcon mission. Something about an incident at the Armistice Line. Something obviously had gone wrong, but instead of being open about it, everybody tried to bury it all under a blanket of silence. She wondered if Richard knew about it. Well, if he did, he wouldn’t tell her anyway.

She wondered if her companion of last night might had known more, but it wouldn’t have been fair to ask him and when it came down to it, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. The Cylon war had imprinted itself on her mind, and she hadn’t forgotten about the terror that had halted almost all life for its duration.

She didn’t know how long they would’ve stayed like that last night, maybe not much longer, but at some point somebody opened the garden doors behind them, and they'd both gotten up at once, as if been caught doing something naughty. 

In a way they had. It was one of high society’s unspoken rules that people at such ludicrous events never talked about anything in earnest, well, if f it didn’t revolve around one person trying to make another person contribute to this cause or that, that was. Honest conversation was unheard of.

Looking behind them, it had been a group of men with cigars, obviously engrossed in some grand political scheme. She couldn’t help herself, had snorted, recognising the Secretary of Defence, along with the Secretary of State. 

No, she hadn't wanted to know what they were talking about, hadn't wanted to be recognized. It had been about time she left before Richard found her after all. Would he want to get her into bed again or fire her because she’d become a political burden? Did she care?

“Are you alright?” her companion had asked her, and damn him, there'd been real worry in his voice. Nobody in her world worried about anybody else. She’d felt tears welling up inside her, chided herself. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t entered politics with open eyes. She had made her bed, had to lie in it now. Who could she complain to anyway?

Things could be different, if she so desired, a voice inside her had whispered, but she'd shied away from it, was afraid to grasp there could be another truth. 

She ‘d looked up at the man beside her.

“Yes. I… I’ve got to go. Thank you so much for everything.”

She'd hoped her voice conveyed her honesty, that he understood, this… whatever it had been, had meant a lot to her. Instinct had ruled over rationality when she got up on her toes, brushed her lips against his. By the gods, his lips were soft, so soft and a shiver ran down her back. 

Pulling back, she'd found the shock she'd felt mirrored in his gaze. She had to leave. Right now. 

Not sparing him another glance, she'd walked as fast as she could, away from him, back into the house where she ignored the people laughing, dancing, making small talk they wouldn’t remember the next day. As fast as she could, she made a beeline for the front door, wondering why it felt right to leave and yet, as if she’d eft something behind. An opportunity? 

*** 

Sunrise came so slow, he was surprised when the blue ink of the night was replaced by a sky tinted in red and yellow hues. He almost smiled, chiding himself for letting him think of the highlights in the hair of his companion last night. He had only really seen her hair inside, in an artificial light intend to soften all harsh lines. 

His mind could simply be exaggerating. And if it did not, he wouldn’t see her again, wouldn’t find out how she looked without a mask. It didn’t matter, shouldn’t. To be in the company of somebody who actually listened to what he had to say was a gift in itself, and he should be content with it. It would be something to remember when he started his new job, this time on a battle worn ship. A gift to warm him during the countless months he’d spend in space. 

It was time to put a lid on it for now, and with a last thought of her, he turned his back to the outside world, heading for his shower.

***

She’d be late for her first meeting, and she didn’t care. After night had turned into morning, she’d taken a shower, had had another cup of coffee, before dressing as quickly as possible, while still looking presentable.

Looking over her schedule for the day, she sighed. Five meetings, one of them colliding with a meeting with her ob gyn. She shouldn’t cancel it, had cancelled it the year before. 

Thinking back of her mother, her cruel death, she shoved the thoughts away. Her family didn’t have a history of breast cancer, her mother having been the first one to succumb to this deadly disease. It wouldn’t do to live in fear of something that might happen or might not happen. She would cancel her doctor’s appointment and make sure to reschedule it to sometime soon. 

That had been what her mother had done. There had always been something else to do, something else to take care of. No, she wouldn’t think of her mother now. She had enough other problems to keep her occupied. 

Leaving her apartment, she was glad that the streets were still mostly deserted. For a moment she allowed herself to think about what her companion of last night was doing now. Was he already awake? Had last night meant something to him, too. 

Ridiculous. Why should he? Although she couldn’t be the only one to think there had been something special about last night. 

So would he be starting another mission soon or was he working for the Academy? Did he have a desk job like herself? She didn’t think so. If she looked into it, she might…She was well-connected, and one or two calls, and she’d know who attended last night’s ball.

No, she would let it rest. What did she hope to find anyway? Last night should be treasured. Meeting him again, reality would cloud the dreamlike quality of last night. She smiled, silently wishing this mystery man all the best. 

Her cell phone rang, and fishing it out of her purse, she frowned. Richard. What on Caprica should she do with him? Before she could think about it twice, she picked accepted the call. 

It was time to face the music.


End file.
